Oh No! not another H/O/D love triangle!!!
by Viola3
Summary: Draco, Hermione, and Oliver, sounds predictsble, but I promise a thrilling tale of Drama, Danger, Angst and Romance! Read it ! Review it! I know you'll love it! Tell your friends!
1. The Beginning of the end

Hermione turned up the volume until her ears hurt and the earphones cracked from the static, but she didn't care – anything to block out the world, anything to stopper the depression that enveloped her.  
  
Usually electronic equipment didn't work in the wizarding world, but Hermione had read the crib notes for next semester's potion homework, and found an interesting brew that dismissed magical vibrations. It was supposed to be for insomniacs and wizards leaving the homes of muggles after inspection (standard ministry of magic practice, wizards entered muggle homes under the guise of meter readers for the power company etc.) but Hermione had used it on the walls of her new room. Surprise, surprise, she had got the letter telling her that she was head girl a fortnight ago, although she had yet to find out who would be head boy. Sometimes, no matter how witch-like she was feeling, she just got the urge to listen to some muggle music on her CD player. Tonight was no exception.  
  
Hermione was in her final year at Hogwarts academy of witchcraft and wizardry, and had just finished her first night back. She was listening to a little known (internationally) band called 'The Whitlams', and their song 'Charlie No. 2' (AN: if you want to hear the lines that follow, go to www.thewhitlams.com - go there now! It is under the Lyrics section, click the little speaker icon to the right of the title, 'Charlie No. 2 {Buy now pay later}) had made her teary. It was so, so, relevant. If you replaced Charlie with Harry, the first two verses sounded like this…  
  
"Harry you're not my Harry anymore, you're screwing it up,  
  
You're killing your soul, with an audience looking on.  
  
And if I hadn't left early last night, I would have made a speech to you,  
  
How you're not the only one you're going to hurt."  
  
God she felt like a fool. They had been at the Sorting earlier that night, the three of them, she was sitting between Harry and Ron as usual, and they had a great time watching the event for the last time, seeing the seedy, smarmy characters sorted into Slytherin before the hat even fell upon their head, watching the kind, confident faces come bounding towards them knowing they had become members of the 'best' house at Hogwarts.  
  
After the sorting had finished, the feast progressed quickly, and although the three friends wanted to savour every moment, they couldn't help noticing that Dumbledore had not yet made his speech, although he seemed to be happy enough at the teachers table. The wizened wizard stood and spoke.  
  
"As I am sure you all know, during last semester, the illustrious Mr. Potter and his friends defeated Voldemort, shattering his power and containing his remains in an enchanted urn for all eternity. Now, the ministry can hardly ignore this enormous feat, and as a result, are awarding honorary N.E.W.T's to Harry and his friends. Would Mr. Harry Potter, Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Virginia Weasley, Mr. Neville Longbottom and Miss Hermione Granger please step forward to receive their awards?"  
  
They looked at each other in amazement, and Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor. If this year went as she anticipated, she would have 20, including this bonus. The most that anyone had ever achieved at Hogwarts was 19. Harry's mother, Lily, had done it.  
  
'Congratulations, Hermione. 20 N.E.W.T's is no mean feat.' Harry spoke softly into her ear. She could feel the blood rising to her cheeks, blushing to the shade of beetroot.  
  
'Thanks Harry, but I hardly did anything; I only learnt a few spells and said them when you told me to. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead by now, you saved us all.'  
  
They seemingly levitated to the podium, Dumbledore draping silver medals around their necks and handing them large scrolls of azure blue parchment tied with silver ribbon. Dumbledore spoke again.  
  
'Would the man of the hour and his friends care to say a few words to their grateful audience?' His eyes twinkled as they so often did when he was up to something or extremely happy. Hermione wasn't so sure what kind of twinkle it was. Harry took out his wand and said 'ampis'. Immediately it took on the characteristics of a microphone. (AN: even if you don't like cheesy oscar/baftaesque acceptance speeches, please bear with me, it is vital to the plot. I mean VITAL!!)  
  
'I would like to thank all of my friends, because without them I doubt that I would be alive; let alone getting an award like this. Ron, you're my best friend, thank you for guiding me, and giving me strength to persevere. Neville, you were so brave, and your idea to put the Cruciatus curse on the death eaters was a stroke of genius, it bought us the extra time we needed. Ginny, you showed so much maturity and wisdom for one so young, without you, I don't think that we would have triumphed at all. Lastly, Hermione, you truly are the most gifted, brilliant, intelligent witch that I have ever known and ever will know. Without your amazing intelligence and wit, I wouldn't be standing here; chances are that this hall wouldn't be here. Along with all the people I love, especially you.' Hermione could feel her heart palpitating. Sure, she loved Harry, as a friend, she loved Harry, but she had the feeling that it was not what he meant as he smiled at her. She felt retched, like the most stupid git that ever walked the earth. Had she led him on? Led him to believe that they were more than just friends? She was sure she hadn't, but had he read her wrong?  
  
She had to get out of there. She was beginning to feel faint, and just wished that she could be back in her bed with Crookshanks purring quietly, asleep at her feet. She tried to think of something calming, like the seaside or some homework, anything to help her compose herself enough to walk to her room. After the others had made their speeches, she too was asked to say a few words. She approached the podium, sucked in a deep breath, and spoke into her wand. 'I think that everyone has already said everything that needs saying, and can I just say that I share all of these thoughts, and more than agree with the sentiments that have been shared.' Whilst everyone was cheering them off the head table, she whispered into Ginny's ear. 'I've got to go. I feel ill, send everyone my apologies, I think I need to lie down before I fall down.'  
  
'I'll come with you, I'll just tell Ron we're going' said Ginny  
  
'Alright, I'll wait outside the hall' said Hermione  
  
The two friends headed up the stairs to the dormitory where they were met by the fat lady, 'password?' she enquired.  
  
'Slytherin Snuggle cakes' whispered Ginny. Ushering Hermione through the hole and up the spiral staircase to the girl's dormitory.  
  
'Well, that was a surprise and a half!' exclaimed Ginny.  
  
'Yeah, a proper Newt, and I haven't even started the term yet' sighed Hermione.  
  
'You know full well that's not what I'm talking about. So, are his feelings reciprocated? Or is it the real reason that you are up here?' said Ginny  
  
'Ginny, why do you know me so well and how is it that you know what I am thinking? Why don't I love him? Why does he love me?'  
  
'I hate to sound cliché, but you're the only one who can answer your first question, and isn't the second answer rather obvious?'  
  
'No, it's not Ginny.'  
  
'Firstly, you're beautiful, then you are kind, fair, not to mention the smartest witch that Hogwarts has seen in over 100 years, all of the senior boys are madly in love with you, even Malfoy, and Harry has had the bug since you were in fourth year, it nearly drove him crazy when you went out with Ron in fifth year, which is why he came up with the idea to call a bit of a mutual truce and break it off. You wouldn't think that Ron tells me everything, but he's opened up a lot lately. And lastly, you are just plain amazing. You can pull off all of this without even batting an eyelash. You are incredible.'  
  
'God Ginny, the way you say it, you make me sound like the queen of sodding Sheba!'  
  
'The Queen of what?'  
  
'Oh, sorry, its mugglespeak; I keep on forgetting that you're not a muggle like me.'  
  
'You are not a muggle or a mudblood or anything like that, you are a proper witch! Stop being such a milch cow and liven up a bit!'  
  
'Sorry'  
  
Well, what are we doing hanging around here anyway, miss 'Head Girl'? Let's go check out your new room!'  
  
The two went down into the common room, and approached the expanse of wall between the twin staircases that went up to the boys and girls dormitories. In the centre of the wall was an enormous oil painting featuring the Gryffindor lion on a scarlet and gold background. Hermione ran her hand down one side of the painting, and the lion opened its eyes, and purred.  
  
'Hello. Hermione, isn't it?' Yawned the lion  
  
'Yes thankyou, sir' whispered a rather hesitant Hermione.  
  
'Please, call me Aslan'. (AN: hehehe – mini-crossover for all of you who had to read the Narnia books in junior school! {For those who don't know, Aslan is the name of the lion from "The lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe"})  
  
'Password?'  
  
'Dracodillius Sepurnium' said Hermione, feeling more confident.  
  
The painting swung out in the fashion of the fat lady, and Hermione and Ginny stepped through the gaping hole in the wall.  
  
It wasn't a room as such, more of a suite, with a living area, study, and separate bedroom and bathroom. The living area was very cosy, with two big scarlet couches and a dark marble fire place; but the part about it that Hermione loved the most was the bookshelves, four or five large mahogany ones, filled with her favourite books, including her battered copy of Hogwarts: A History from way back in first year. The little study area was adorable, featuring a huge desk made of some dark wood she didn't recognise, it was filled with new parchment and quills. A big leather chair was pushed in at the desk, and another small bookshelf was filled with expensive looking leather bound books.  
  
'Wow, Hermione, I knew that the job had perks, but isn't this just a little outlandish?'  
  
'I had no idea it was going to be like this – and we haven't even seen the bedroom yet!' The two friends made a sprint for the door on the right side of the room and pushed their way into a very modern, light room, with lime- washed walls and lemony carpet. A Queen sized pine bed with bright bed linen sat in the left hand corner of the room.  
  
'Holy shit Ginny! This is my bedroom! My bedroom from home, in Greenwich!'  
  
'How do they do it? Hogwarts sure does come up with some surprises!'  
  
Hermione went to the pine tallboy and opened the drawers. Inside she found all of her muggle clothes, Shorts, shirts, jeans, skirts, everything. Then her face lit up and she ran across the room to the matching cupboard.  
  
'Ginny! Come here! You have got to see this.' Hermione exclaimed, pulling out her dresses and shoes and laying them on the bed. 'I could never fit any of this in my trunk to come back to Hogwarts, and it was just not practical, I mean, it's not as if they run a course on muggle fashions in contemporary society, so I didn't. Here, try this on.'  
  
Hermione handed Ginny a silver satin dress with a white organza overlay, which was embroidered with silver roses. 'Oh, you'd better take these as well' said Hermione, thrusting a pair of matching shoes and some accessories. Ginny went to put it all on while Hermione kept on sorting through the large rack of gowns. Hermione found her favourite, a dark red silk dress with very full skirts, a fitted bodice and satin trim of the same colour. She put it on, along with her matching shoes, slicking her hair up into a pony tail, letting a few curls fall across her face. At that moment Ginny entered the room. She looked amazing, her Auburn hair falling in waves on her shoulders, silver shoes on her feet and a simple silver choker encompassing her neck  
  
They decided that the best place to show their new looks off would be at the ball tomorrow. It was to be held in Harry's honor, to celebrate their triumph and the collapse of evil in the wizarding world. They realised it was getting late, so Ginny said her goodbyes and left back through the Lion entrance into the common room. It was then that Hermione sat on her bed, turned on the CD player, and cried. She didn't want to hurt Harry, and just the thought of what she had to tell him tomorrow made her so depressed that part of her didn't want there to be a tomorrow at all. He was killing his soul, and the audience would be the whole of Hogwarts, because as Dumbledore once said, "It's a secret, so naturally, everybody knows."  
  
She couldn't sleep, so she slid her feet into her bunny rabbit slippers (a favourite of Crookshanks's) and padded into the main suite. On her way to the living area, she noticed a small watercolour on the wall opposite the desk. It was of a girl sitting beside a stream holding a basket of flowers. 'What I would give to be in your place' sighed Hermione.  
  
'You really would, would you?' asked the girl, lifting her head and enquiring in a soft Irish accent. 'Have you come to go next door, or are ye' just vistin'?'  
  
'Next door?' asked Hermione.  
  
'Aye, has no-one told ye bout me?' asked the girl in a small voice.  
  
'No, I'm sorry, I missed the end of the feast, and I don't even know who is next door.'  
  
'Well, if ye be wantin' to visit next door, whoever 'tis will tell you the password, you tell it to me, and that thar' wall will open up.'  
  
'Oh, right, thank you, I'll talk to you later.' Hermione was perplexed. She hoped that it wasn't Harry; she prayed to God that it wasn't Harry, because then it would be too easy for him to hope something was going to happen. Who could it be? Hermione chuckled to herself as she thought of Seamus or Neville as head boy. She almost forgot what she would have to do tomorrow and managed to get to sleep by midnight.  
  
Hermione rolled over to see the sun streaming through the white French doors in her room. She had noticed them before, but had never paid much attention to them. She was curious as to what was outside. Flinging her feet at the floor, she stood perfectly upright, and realised that she was wearing her favourite nightie – a black satin slip with a low front and red hearts all over it. It looked raunchy, but Hermione had bought it because it was so comfortable. She glided over to the doors and pushed them open with both hands, flooding the room and her skin with pale morning light. It was a beautiful courtyard, paved with earthy tiles, a lions' head fountain on the far wall, shrubs and spread around in planter boxes and pots, a leafy grape vine forming an ornate canopy over one corner. There were several garden benches, and on one of them was the most horrific thing she had ever seen. 


	2. A certain something more

Chapter 2: That certain something more  
  
AN: Oh bugger oh bugger oh bugger. Forgot to put Disclaimer thingy in last chapter stating that JKR kicks arse and I am pathetic deranged teenager with nothing better to do. Had better do it now before pending litigation occurs faster than roadrunner type creature on illicit substance such as speed. So, the long and not quite so long of it is…  
  
Disclaimer – J.K. Rowling kicks arse and I can safely say that Harry potter is possibly most addictive thing I have ever read. All of the following (bar butterscotch beer and the plot, which little old me thought up on my own), it is all hers, except of course frequent verbal diarrhoea, and little grabs from other songs etc., which either myself or someone else besides her owns.  
  
Oh, By the way, have decided to have some bits from other characters perspective, rather than just Hermione POV, which has tendency to go stale very quickly from my own experience. Enjoy!  
  
Sitting on the other side of the courtyard, eyes blatantly fixed on her cleavage, wearing that dark smirk on his lips, was Malfoy in his Sunday robes. He was sporting a bronze badge featuring the Hogwarts Emblem that read "Head Boy". Hermione was mortified. She had not even considered Malfoy as a potential candidate for Head boy – his father was a death eater – Harry had killed Lucius in the war. Surely he couldn't be!  
  
'Hello Mudblood. Good to see that you have, ah, resurfaced. It would be very suspicious if the head girl did not emerge after a night like last night, what with the illustrious Mr. Potter proclaiming his love for you in front of the whole school and all.'  
  
'So what, He loves me, Big deal. Then again I don't suppose that you would know anything about love. The closest you've ever been to it is shagging that pug dog Pansy Parkinson in the prefect's bathroom last year, or so I hear.'  
  
'Come now Hermione, lets not hit below the belt now, after all we do share our bathroom, in case you failed to notice.' said Draco, giving her that famous smirk.  
  
'Our bathroom; you must be joking – even though I haven't been in yet, Dumbledore would never-.'  
  
'He has nothing to do with it; it's been that way since the school started. How do you think Harry's parents and practically every other head boy and girl ended up either married or at least shagging.' He said coolly.  
  
'I swear to you now Malfoy that I will never, ever have anything to do with you besides what the school asks me and what the school forces me to do!'  
  
'Fine then, Granger, have it your way. I was just being hospitable, trying to be nice to you when you have such a hard day ahead.'  
  
'Whatever do you mean Malfoy, it's a Sunday and I will be relaxing and reading my new book of spells all day.'  
  
'From what I've heard you have something very important to tell Harry. Best do it now before you hurt him even more' murmured Malfoy in a disconcertingly sincere tone. For one moment their eyes met, and she thought that she saw a certain bitterness wash over the deep blue-green pools as he stood and exited through the matching French doors in the other side of the courtyard, which obviously lead to his room.  
  
'Bizarre' muttered Hermione as she retreated to her room.  
  
Draco looked around at his room. He had been told that under a special consideration direct from the ministry, he did not have to bring his room back to Hogwarts, and thankfully the room that awaited him on his first knight back had not been the dank dungeon at Malfoy manner. No, it was far from that, thank god. It had green walls (his favourite colour) and dark brown Wooden flooring, with a green Persian rug in the centre. The room was pained in dark, strong colours, but this was balanced out by the large gold chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling, illuminating the darkness that the night brought.  
  
Even though she was a mudblood, even though she wasn't even worthy of his thought, Draco couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I mean, practically nobody on the 'good' side of the war had died, and yet Hermione had lost her Muggle brother, Jamie. And she had to go and tell her best friend that she didn't deem him worthy to possess her. A smile briefly played across his lips as he thought that out there somewhere was the boy who could. Draco did a double take and cursed himself for thinking such a thing; that was almost as bad as walking in on Pansy and Goyle in the middle of something unseemly. 'ah well, we can't be thinking like that Draco' he said to himself as he went to take a nice, cold shower.  
  
As 7th years, they could go into Hogsmeade whenever they wanted on weekends, and she knew just where Harry would be. Hermione stepped inside the three broomsticks and although she could only see Ron, he appeared to be talking to himself, and thus Harry would be hiding under his invisibility cloak, sculling butterbeer like there was no tomorrow and sulking. She approached the bar stools where she thought Harry was sitting and whispered into the air she assumed was the area around his ear.  
  
'You can't pull that kind of shit with me, Harry Potter. I know you too well.'  
  
The air spoke. 'I wasn't hiding from you, I was hiding from them' Said the air, creating a breeze as he waved his hand around the room. Hermione felt that it was her time to but in. 'Why did you say that last night when you know how I feel about the subject? I promised myself when the war started that I would not ever date you or Ron, simply because I care too much. You two are the best friends I ever had, and if I don't have you there isn't much left. That and I am too attached to you as brothers, I can't see myself romantically with either of you. It would be incest, like Ron going out with Ginny or something, it'd just be, well, wrong. Will you forgive me? Truce? Because if you don't forgive me, and I don't have anyone to talk to at Hogwarts; I might as well leave now, because Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without you.' Hermione felt as if she had said too much, the ultimate windbag, she would not blame Harry if he laughed his way out of the tavern. Instead, the invisibility cloak came off and a very blotchy faced Harry emerged.  
  
'I'm sorry Hermione, I guess I kind of got swept away in the moment I didn't mean it, I guess. Well I did, but I didn't, if you know what I mean' said Harry, managing a weak smile. Ron thankfully changed the subject. 'So, how does it feel to be sharing a bathroom with Malfoy?' said Ron, sniggering. 'Well thankfully I like to shower early, so I haven't bumped into him yet. How do they choose head boy and girl, anyway?' asked Hermione, beginning to regret that the subject had been changed at all.  
  
'The sorting hat. It decides what you are going to be in first year. It has bugger all to do with how good you are at school, as they told us constantly ALL the way through junior school.' Sighed Harry  
  
'So, even though Lucius was a death eater and Malfoy has done all of these atrocious things to everyone, it was always going to be him. All I can say is that there had better be internal locks on the bathroom doors, I don't want to even think about the terrifying possibilities!' cringed Hermione. At this, Ron's face started to go all red, as if he was about to burst into fits of laughter, but the only problem was that he had just started pouring butter beer down his throat. The result was spectacular, because not only did it spurt from his nose as any other dairy product would, it also began seeping out of his ears.  
  
'My god Ron; that was disgusting!' laughed Harry, trying to dodge the torrent of yellow liquid escaping Ron's nose. Ron eventually managed to compose himself a bit, and after gasping for air, came out with 'I, I, just had an image in my head- of Hermione walking in on Draco in the bath with P- P-Pansy pug-faced Parkinson!' Said Ron, collapsing into fits of laughter again, barely staying on the bar stool. Hermione looked appalled.  
  
'Honestly, how vulgar are your minds; that you can think of-of- those two doing THAT! I mean, Yuk, it's enough to make your skin crawl!'  
  
'Yes, well, we can't all be pure and chaste like you, Hermione' gasped Ron, managing to speak between giggles. Even Harry was doubled over, laughing so hard that he looked like he was going to wet himself. Hermione gave up on and approached the main bar, where Mary the bartender was chatting to Hagrid.  
  
'Hello Hagrid, Hello Mary. Good to see people having good, wholesome conversation.'  
  
'What's happened to you, love?' asked Mary  
  
'Trust me, you don't want to know. Better make mine a butterscotch beer, please.'  
  
'Righto, dear' said the cheery barmaid, getting a mug from under the counter and heading off towards the taps.  
  
'So Hermione, how's your last year been s'far? Asked Hagrid.  
  
'Well, besides my sick minded best friends and a lack of work to do, it's been ok, Hagrid'.  
  
'What have those boys bin up to? I 'spect they've been in good form, what with Harry spendin' the summer at the burrow an' all, bet he's come up with all sorts – come backs, one-liners and don forget he has a share in the Weasley boys new business down the road. Goodness knows what tha' little scamps'll get up to.'  
  
'So far the only torture has been derogatory comments about Malfoy – which isn't that great because I have to do all of that head boy and girl stuff with him. Now every time I see him I'll think of him in the bath with Pansy Puggish Parkinson!' Obviously Hagrid thought that this was the funniest thing in the history of the wizarding world, and keeled over chuckling to himself. 'Draco…in the…bath…with Pansy - Classic, tha' is!'  
  
'Lost cause' Muttered Hermione, thanking Mary for the butterscotch beer and drinking it with unusual haste. She said her goodbyes and wandered up to the castle to get some serious rest before the ball. 


	3. Some enchanted evening

Welcome to the third chapter, we hope you enjoy your stay, Keep your seat belt on at all times, please refrain from stealing the towels and replacing the Vodka in the mini bar with water because it's not a very nice thing to do. – The Management  
  
Disclaimer: More stuff belonging to the legendary JKR, am not about to pretend names etc are mine, only plot is mine. Please enjoy.  
  
Thankyou to Madame Padfoot for first and only Review. I need more !! PLEASE!!!  
  
Chapter 3: One enchanted evening  
  
The enchanted ceiling was starry and clear, the celestial diamonds enthralling all those in the enormous cavern of a room. The tables had disappeared by the time the girls appeared at the entrance, and the new wizarding band, the Hogsmeade howlers were singing a fast paced, throbbing number, and they sounded great. Ginny and Hermione had spent the afternoon in her suite, getting ready like muggles (although they did discover a very effective manicure and pedicure spell in Witch Weekly, and had cheated a bit on makeup as well). Ginny ended up in an emerald green heavy satin dress, with a boned bodice and full skirt. Hermione couldn't resist putting on her favourite scarlet dress again.  
  
'Gee that band is good; we'll have to visit after they finish the set.' Said Ginny  
  
'I wonder if any of them are cute. Not just cute-cute, I mean, shaggable cute, like Ewan McGregor cute.' smiled Hermione (AN: sorry people, couldn't help self, will refrain from shameless plugs in future).  
  
'Hermione Granger! Honestly!' exclaimed Ginny  
  
'Well you know you were thinking it, I just had the bollocks to actually say it.'  
  
They both giggled their way over to the group containing all of the other 6th and 7th year Gryffindor's who were chatting away happily, oblivious to the immense noise of the loud speakers. Harry and Ron were telling the Ron- spurting-butterbeer-through-nose-whilst-thinking-of-Draco-and-Pansy- Shagging-in-bath anecdote for the 400th time, so Hermione and Ginny wandered up towards the temporary podium where the band was playing, waiting for them to finish their song. Whoever was singing the vocals, (Hermione thought it sounded like a young man) had an amazing voice. But Hermione couldn't see his face because all of the band members were wearing their robes with their hoods on…  
  
Hermione approached the stage alone after the number had finished, since Ginny said she needed some of Dobby's famous party punch. As per Harry's constant advice, she decided to 'live a little', so feeling bold as brass she walked straight up to the lead singer and said to the cloaked figure…  
  
'You were amazing, 100 times better than the weird sisters or anyone! I've never heard a wizarding singer like you.'  
  
'Why thankyou Hermione, I like to think I do OK,' replied a distinctive Scottish Burr.  
  
'Oliver!' exclaimed Hermione as the former Quidditch captain lifted his hood to reveal his friendly face and smiling eyes. 'I had no idea; I thought that your sole passion was Quidditch'.  
  
'Well there's more to Oliver Wood than Quidditch, just as I suspect there is more to Hermione Granger than books. God it's been a long time. I think I last saw when you were in what, was it? Third year?' She thought she caught a certain glint in his eyes.  
  
'Yes, third year.' she whispered.  
  
'Those were the days, weren't they? Such good days' he muttered, looking a little depressed. Oliver had fought in the war, and had lost his elder bother, Archie, who Hermione had never met because of the age gap, but had heard he was a good man and just as charming and charismatic as the younger wood boy. He had been Head boy and Captain of the Quidditch team; it was generally acknowledged that he would be sadly missed.  
  
'I'm sorry Oliver. It makes me feel so guilty that I got to live when someone just as nice as me if not nicer didn't. I never knew him personally, but if he was anything like you I can understand the immensity of the hole he left.'  
  
'Thanks Hermione, I really appreciate that, I mean after all of the sympathetic treatment I get from people who didn't know him, its good to hear someone being honest for a change. Nice to hear from someone who understands what it's like losing a brother. I'm sorry about Jamie. Dumbledore told me.' Oliver murmured, seeing the mutual pain in her eyes, observing the watering of the now dark brown pools. An inky black tear ran down the side of her face, rolling over her cheek bones and down past her jaw.  
  
'I think I need to go to the bathroom, so I guess I'll be seeing you' sniffed Hermione, striding of in the direction of the exit.  
  
'Oh shit' said Oliver to himself as he ran after her, regretting his words and trying to think of something to make her pain go away, something so that she could make his pain go away. Oliver reached the exit of the great hall and looked both ways. It was empty, and he thought that he heard the light swoosh of silk to his right. From memory, there was an old girls bathroom down there, and he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, hoping that he'd reach her before she actually went in.  
  
Hermione pushed into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, looking at the person staring back.  
  
'Jamie' she sighed, reaching out and running her hand down one side of the mirror. Her parents had always boasted how much their youngest daughter was practically a female carbon copy of their son, but it was particularly obvious now. Hermione's Lipstick had worn off and her mascara had smudged under her Eyes, creating deathly black dark circles under her eyes. She looked like Jamie just before he…. God, she couldn't even think about it without her very skull feeling as if it was going to explode. Her head began to throb and all she could think of was that sickly green light and Jamie's scream. In her minds eye she saw him fall, and she fell with him, hitting the cold bathroom floor with a dull thud.  
  
Draco watched Wood sprint after Granger, and she had a really pained look on her face. Poor thing, he'd better go see what was wrong. Not that he cared or anything, it was just decent. After all he had to work with her, so it would just be the right thing for him to do. Yes, he would go now, as head boy, purely professional. Draco sprinted after Wood, catching him just outside the girls bathroom.  
  
'What happened?' he asked, panting.  
  
'I think I may have said too much' said Wood, looking pained  
  
Together they pushed the door open. Hermione was lying on the floor. She wasn't moving.  
  
  
  
Short, I know, but I was in a hurry. Nice little cliff hanger though, eh ? 


	4. Coming around

Chapter 4: Coming to.  
  
Thanks to my fabulous reviewer, I won't write down your name this time, but I will in future, I just can't remember how to spell it and I don't want to get it wrong… Personally, I thought that the climax was pretty good, I mean, suspense wise! Don't worry, she won't die – and that's a promise!!  
  
In an attempt to be thrifty and save valuable typing time, this evening's disclaimer will be brought to you in mobile phone text message writing, or SMS as it is known to the masses.  
  
Disclaimer: JKR is gr8, dn't u thnk? All Harry Blong 2 her, OK? Not me. ;-)  
  
  
  
Draco and Oliver looked at each other, then down at the lifeless heap of scarlet silk on the floor. Hermione was turning blue, and neither of them had any idea of what they could do to help her.  
  
'Draco, you go find Madame Pomfrey and I'll try to wake her up' Oliver began to look confident and in control of the situation. Draco had the strange urge not to leave her.  
  
'I don't think either of us should leave her, and if anyone should be here it's me. I'm head boy, she's my responsibility. I'm not going.'  
  
'Look, Draco, this is the worst possible time to argue. Just go and get help before it's too late. GO!' yelled Oliver, rushing down to where Hermione was lying. Draco felt that cold bitterness run over him again, but he did not argue and dashed out of the bathroom.  
  
'Hermione, Hermione!' cried Oliver, sitting her up against one of the cubicle doors and shaking her gently. 'Please don't die; not you, not now, it is just not fair, after all you've been through, please keep on living!'  
  
Oliver was crying now, crystal tears running down his cheeks. He pulled his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and whispered 'Crystalliarmus', waving the wand under her nose, hoping that the smelling salts charm might jolt her back. Malfoy was taking his sweet time. He probably wanted her to die, he thought bitterly. He had always had it in for her, calling her names, making fun of her until after the war when if he did he'd have his throat slit. It was up to him to save her. He waved the wand under her nose and murmured into her ear. 'Please Hermione, live. If for nothing else, live for me.' He pulled away and looked at her pale, cold face, and feared the worst. But then, the corners of her pale mouth twitched until it was in a weak smile, and the veined eyelids opened to reveal bloodshot eyes, and a small voice whispered…  
  
'That's the most beautiful thing that I have ever heard.'  
  
Draco reached the door of the hospital wing and knocked. When there was no answer he charged in, only to find a note on Pomfrey's desk that read 'Gone to London for extra supplies, back tomorrow morning. Now, even more worried about Hermione than ever, he charged back down the stairs, hoping that he would not be too late; because the last thing he wanted to see Hermione was dead. Far from it actually, he wanted her alive and well.  
  
'Really?' asked Oliver, unable to keep in his excitement that she was alright, let alone what she had just said. He began to worry about her again. She looked pale. No, not just pale, she was white. 'Are you alright? What happened? Tell me, please.'  
  
'Oh, Oliver it was awful! I started thinking about when Jamie…When Jamie…he- '  
  
She let out a small cry, and then she broke down in to wracking sobs, flinging her arms around Oliver and crying on his shoulder. 'It was terrible, so terrible, I was so scared, and I was falling, falling with him! And all I could see was that green light, he was screaming-' She couldn't speak any more, it hurt so much.  
  
Oliver had heard about how Jamie Granger died. He was captured and tortured to the edge of insanity, and yet his muggle body managed to live through what some of the strongest wizards couldn't endure. But the pain and torture did not stop, his spirit abused beyond repair. Hermione and her friends arrived at Voldemort's family manor, the dark Lord preparing to finish the job, Hermione flinging herself in front of him, Harry pulling her off just before the deed was committed, Voldemort crying the fatal spell a second after she was pulled from her brothers body, screaming at Harry, telling him she wanted to die too. Thankfully, Harry was able to pull it off, to defeat Voldemort before Hermione died from the pain, a pain that seared into every fibre of her being, so sure she was that her life was going to end, that she told Ron to remember her, to never forget. God she had been through a lot, he wasn't even sure that she had grieved yet; she hadn't had time to cry for crying's sake, to heal the wounds that remained inside long after external bruises had been cured.  
  
Hermione was glad that there was someone with her, someone to hold her. The one thing that she really needed was a hug and someone to tell her that things were going to be alright. 'You're going to be fine, Hermione. Don't let the pain in. I'll look after you; I promise everything is going to be alright, you've got to fight.' He said, whispering through her hair. When he said that, it felt like the pain had started ebbing out, trapped inside the tears rolling down her cheeks and onto his shoulder.  
  
'It's going!' said Hermione, gazing up into his eyes. 'You told me to fight the pain and I did and it's just floating away, I don't know what happened, it's just releasing' He had never been so relieved in his entire life; and at that moment he felt an elation that far surpassed winning any Quidditch cup.  
  
'God I love you' he said, immediately regretting it. She was probably going out with Harry or some other prefect, and she wouldn't want some common Quidditch player anyway, she was too good for that, too good for him. Hell, she could have the world's number one seeker, Viktor Krum, if she wanted. He just wasn't her type; not famous like Krum or Harry, not funny like wrong, not dark like Draco. He looked down at her, expecting her to get up and run away like all the others. But she didn't. She was still there. And she was smiling at him.  
  
'You are the first boy to say that to me. Ever' she beamed up at him.  
  
'Then I guess I'll be the first boy to do this too' he said jokingly, leaning in and kissing her. Not sucking and slobbering like she'd seen muggle teenagers, but soft and gentle, more warmth than anything else. She felt a fluttering in her stomach which rose up inside her, till she had this uncontrollable urge to kiss him back, so she did. Gently reciprocating at first, and then becoming more passionate, until they were both on the cold floor, kissing so fiercely that they were oblivious to their surroundings.  
  
Draco ran down the final section of wall before the toilets. The journey back had been a nightmare, a hundred worse case scenarios playing through his head over and over; Oliver crying over a blue Hermione telling him she didn't wake up, and never would, or Hermione waking up not knowing who she was and where she was, or her waking up and being empty, comatose, catatonic, without sight or speech, never knowing that he…well, lets not get carried away, Draco. He mentally slapped himself for thinking that way. Of everything he had considered, what he saw when he opened that door had not even crossed his mind. The two of them, together like that. Nothing too explicit, just snogging vigorously in their own little world with their eyes clamped shut. He went straight back out of the door he came in, and remembered how he had wondered who the lucky boy to possess Hermione Granger would be, and then he realised that the question had just answered itself. Draco stalked off to his room, knowing that no credit would be given to him, it would all be the "Good, honest Wood" saving "Poor, unconscious Hermione" all on his own. He could almost hear his own heart breaking as he slid under his duvet, ready for another sleepless night. Only this time it wouldn't be thoughts of her that made him evade sleep, it would be of the two of them, no doubt now at it like rabbits on the bathroom floor.  
  
Hermione was still on cloud nine, still falling into Oliver, getting closer and closer but knowing where to stop. The moment came and she pulled away. 'I'm sorry, I'll have to stop, I couldn't, and I mean I can't, well, you know, Horizontal Celtic dancing.' Oliver let out a soft chuckle. 'I've never heard that name for it before! But yes, I understand, and this floor was getting colder by the minute anyway. Do you want some time alone in the bathroom to clean up, I mean, get back to your usual gorgeous self instead of the Chinese panda bear look.'  
  
'Oh, right, thanks. Well, don't you have another set to play?'  
  
'Yes, but first I think we'd better go for a little walk, just to make sure that you are alright. I don't want you collapsing on the dance floor' said Oliver, regaining his composure and smoothing his hair as he smiled to himself on his way out of the room.  
  
Hermione looked in the mirror once more, but thankfully she now only saw herself, with messy hair and a black tear stained face, the Witch Weekly makeup spell unable to withstand the kind of tears she had just cried. She went into one of the cubicles and took a giant wad of paper off the loo roll, pointing her wand at it and muttering 'Maximalus Totalus' at which point the paper turned into what appeared to be a giant purple powder puff. She dabbed it across her face and hair, running down along her neck and cleavage. When she looked back into the mirror she looked just as she had at the beginning of the evening, fresh faced and without a puffy eye to be seen. She checked her hair, and left the bathroom looking the same (if not better than) she had before. Oliver was waiting for her outside the bathroom and took her arm. 'May I?' he asked, as charming as ever.  
  
'Why thankyou, kind sir' said Hermione as he led her further down the hallway in the opposite direction of the hall.  
  
After a while they reached the main door, and pushed it open, walking down towards the lake. 'She really is perfect' he thought to himself, looking into her eyes, which were illuminated by the light of the full moon. Her skin was translucent porcelain, creamy and clear, her lips soft and full, and her body slender and delicate; she was irresistible, and if he could have it his way, they would be far away, back in Scotland, living in a castle, and she could be his queen. But it was not to be, he could see that now, she was destined to do great things, and whether or not he was going to be standing by her was uncertain.  
  
The light was reflecting of the seemingly jewelled lake and illuminating both of them, as if the light was shining out of them, not onto them. Hermione felt immortal, like she was going to stand here forever, forever with him. She looked up at him, and asked.  
  
'What you said, did you mean it? I mean really, truly mean it? Not just a spur of the moment whim that you would say to anyone if they were hurting, but, deliberate?'  
  
'Of all the things I've said, all the Quidditch speeches, the songs I've composed, I have never meant anything as much as I meant that. Nothing.' At that he kissed her again, took her into his arms and held onto her tightly, drowning in her, falling deeper.  
  
Draco had not been able to sleep, as expected, and crawled out of his bed, and put on a rather garish emerald green satin night-robe that his mother had given him for his birthday last year. He felt like a drink, and approached the mug he kept on the sink and said 'Bloody Mary'. The cup filled instantaneously with red liquid. He went through his living room, to the double doors that lead onto a small balcony with a priceless view – The forbidden forest and the lake, its usually black surface glowing white, reflecting the moon light. Then he noticed two figures entwined; one tall with dirty blonde hair, and the other in a scarlet dress. 'What is this, let's torment Draco night? Shags around Britain with your hosts Oliver perfect Wood and Hermione perfect Granger, made for each other and practically perfect in every way?' Draco skulled the contents of the mug, and it refilled itself, the liquid pouring down his throat almost faster than the mug could replenish itself.  
  
Oliver pulled away from her, as much as he hated to and said 'They'll be missing you. Plus, Fred and George will be as pissed as an Irish priest on Sunday for leaving them with instrumentals for so long.'  
  
'Fred and George?!? They're in your band? I didn't even see them.'  
  
'They still had their hoods down when we left; I broke a bit of a promise to talk to you, we were supposed to ignore all of the students while we played, and at the end of the evening unveil ourselves and become famous or something – another one of Fred's brilliant plans. But it's nothing, because I really wanted to talk to you, right?  
  
'Right, and I was'- Oliver cut in. 'When is your next Hogsmeade weekend?'  
  
'I'm Head Girl, Oliver; I can go into Hogsmeade whenever I want. Why?'  
  
'Could you make it into the three broomsticks tomorrow night after you're finished at the school, just for a drink or something, I could buy you dinner, would you come?'  
  
'Yes, of course I'll come. But we'd better get back to the ball, before people get suspicious. You know Hogwarts, you stub your toe and say 'Jiminy Cricket' or 'Crikey that hurt', tongues start wagging and within a week you're a foul mouthed death eater or something!' Oliver laughed to himself and said 'Well, if we don't get back soon they'll have us eloping to Gretna Green because you're pregnant with my child!' And at that, they both started giggling, and started to head back to the hall, both relived that the ordeal was over.  
  
Draco stared down at the pair, laughing gaily and practically skipping back to the hall. Draco had to do something about it. He had only had three Bloody Marys, and surely he was good enough for her, all he had to do was ask, be kind, and how could she resist? Draco practically sprinted to the bathroom, showered, shaved and pulled on his favourite pair of black leather pants, boots, and pulled on a tight black tee shirt. He sprayed on deodorant and cologne, and combed his hair into a floppy part, sections falling onto his forehead like some devilishly handsome muggle actor. Anyway, he finished getting ready and charged down the stairs with one thing on his mind – he was going to win her over.  
  
Ooohhhh – What do you think – should Draco win the day or will Hermione and Oliver have their romantic rendezvous at the pub – you decide! Yes, that's right, folks, whoever gets the most votes in my review section (The delightful Oliver or the delicious Draco) will win in the next chapter, and win Hermione's heart. Looks like Oliver is in the lead at the moment, but will Draco make up for lost time and win the day? It's up to you!! 


	5. Hearts Content

Chapter 5: Hearts Content  
  
Disclaimer: Been there, done that, not mine, all hers. Don't own Oliver or Draco….unfortunately. Sigh  
  
AN: Thanks very muchly to Tiggs Panther and Evil Fairy for my latest reviews, but to all of you who have read it and not reviewed shame on you! I need more! Tell your colleagues, tell your friends, preach at them until you turn blue in the face, REVIEW MY BLOODY STORY!!! Sorry about that, I don't often resort to losing my cool; I like to keep my composure at all times, but desperate times call for desperate measures…  
  
So, the votes are in, and according to the review section, Draco is going to win Hermione!!! But what about poor Oliver!?! Don't worry, I'll think of something, or should I say someone!! I will do one last generic chapter in order to give the Newbies' a chance to vote… So here's one to tie up a few loose ends before we move on.  
  
Hermione and Oliver eventually reached the arch that led into the great hall, and because they had hurried, she had a pink glow in her cheeks. Oliver couldn't help noticing and couldn't help saying something. 'You're blushin' like an atheist in a church on Christmas Hermione! I could have sworn you were a nice, normal colour earlier this evening, whatever's the matter?'  
  
'Nothing's wrong, I'm just a bit puffed, and I think that we should stop for a minute, It might look a bit suspect if I come back from the bathroom as the same colour as my dress, panting, with an ex Quidditch captain who just happens to be gorgeous and has the sexiest accent and the dreamiest eyes in the world! … Oops, sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away…' Hermione panted, still out of breath. Oliver looked down at her again, and couldn't help himself, just one last kiss, just one.  
  
Draco caught up with the love birds near the arch that led to the hall, but they were far too close, so he hid behind one of the pillars and watched. She was gazing up at him, glowing. 'Post coital, no doubt.' He thought to himself bitterly. Then he nuzzled her hair and lent down to kiss her sensually on the lips. 'What?!? Not again! Don't tell me he's going to snog her again, I don't think that I could take it, I mean, at least one shag and three snogs in one night is more than any man can take!' He listened to her sigh as Oliver finished, playfully nipping her bottom lip as he stood upright again and murmured in that bloody common highland accent 'No, I don't think that you were getting carried away.' Hermione let out a small giggle and said… 'Look at you, silly boy, your mouth is covered in my lip rouge. Here.' Hermione pulled a large red silk handkerchief from the cleavage of her dress and wiped off his and her own face. Why did she have to be so frigging perfect? He thought, wondering what the fanatical Scottish Sportsman had over him. 'I have a body just as good as him, a brain just as sound; I've been told that I am good looking, smart, what don't I have?'  
  
Hermione looked up at him for what seemed like the thousandth time, looking at him, studying every part of his face, from his lively smiling eyes to his wide mouth, and thought what a lucky girl she was, lucky to be with him like this. 'Well, we'd definitely better get going, I expect Ginny is having a heart attack, and Ron and Harry will have their wands out, looking for another mountain troll.' And at that, the couple split, Hermione darting back into the party, Oliver waiting at the opening of the hall until the coast was clear, and checking that Hermione was back, safe with her friends.  
  
Draco seized the opportunity, roughed up his hair, and ran over to Oliver, wheezing as if he had just run a marathon. 'Madame Pomfrey is in London! Where is Hermione! And why do you look so bloody happy?' Draco panted as authentically as possible, trying to look flustered and genuinely scared.  
  
'I'm sorry, Malfoy. I should have come and fetched you; Hermione is fine, she just fainted. She had a bit of a shock, really. Apparently she had some kind of bizarre flashback to when her brother died, she was convulsing, and it did get a bit frightening, but she came around with a smelling salts charm. So, I got her spick and span and back on the dance floor in no time. I was checking the hall in case anyone saw – she's really sensitive about it apparently'. That's right, Wood; omit the snogging, and your little encounter on the bathroom floor, and that's exactly what happened. Oh no, let's not forget the pash by the lake, and the one five minutes ago and that's exactly what happened. Right, that's exactly it.  
  
'Well, I'm very busy. You know how it is, Wood. People to do, Things to see; Must dash, I do believe that Pansy is gagging for it as we speak.' And with that, he stormed back into the great hall, pretending to be indifferent to the whole situation.  
  
Once inside, Draco sauntered over to the group of sixth and seventh year Slytherins, among them were Crabbe and Goyle, whose only function in life was to make him look smarter, and whose main goal in life was to "score" as they called it; in particular with Pansy. He didn't know what all the boys went on about, she really did look like a pug dog, and although there had been rumours, and he had joked about it no end; any rumours must have come from her, because he wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. He hadn't done anything, or anyone more to the point.  
  
Oliver was glad to see Hermione back with her friends, laughing and joking as if nothing had happened. Malfoy puzzled him. He had always been so bitter, but when Hermione was in danger he had gone all sincere, and deathly pale as if he were the sick one; then under the arch before, sounded so worried; but then when he heard that she was fine he reverted back to his usual, slimy self. All bitter and twisted and full of innuendo. It was really strange, he thought as he stood back up on the podium to sing again; he could have sworn Draco was wearing robes and cloth pants before he sent him upstairs… Oh Christ he said to himself. To get changed, Draco would have had to go back to his room, and the head boys' room looked over the lake (he had once visited Percy to discuss training methods for the Quidditch team)… If he had seen Hermione and him standing there…Oh god he saw them kiss… He would tell the entire school…he had to talk to him…now. He jumped off the podium during the introduction to the second song; trying to look casual he jogged over to the Slytherin crowd. "Can we have a word, Draco?'  
  
'Of course, Oliver, I won't be a moment'. Then, completely out of the blue, he lent over a very pretty blonde girl and kissed her very fully on the lips. 'I'll be right back, don't go away.' The blonde girl looked faint, and fell into a fit of giggles as soon as Malfoy turned away from her.  
  
'Christ, Draco – do you even know her name?' asked an amused Oliver  
  
'of course I do. That was….umm…Felicity, I think' fumbled Draco, his usually perfect, confident, front faltering momentarily.  
  
'Well that isn't what I wanted to talk about. When you went back up to your room to change into that fine ensemble you are wearing, you didn't by any chance go out onto the balcony, did you?'  
  
'No, why do you ask?' Oh great one Oliver, you didn't plan on him saying no, did you?  
  
'Well…umm…it's just that when Hermione was better she wanted some fresh air, so we went for a walk, and I didn't want you to feel…umm…left out, since you helped and everything'. Malfoy could see how uncomfortable he was, how much he was squirming at the thought of him knowing. 'If only I didn't care about her so much I could have done some serious muck-raking on this one'. Oh well, there was always someone else he could humiliate.  
  
Soon she would know, and soon she would care.  
  
Draco walked back into the hall once more, only to see Wood talking to Hermione. He detoured past them in the hope that he might overhear some of the conversation. 'So, my fair maiden, are you going to meet me tomorrow? For sure?'  
  
'Of course, you flaming great git! I said yes the first time you asked me. The three broomsticks, tomorrow at eight, right?'  
  
'Right; and Hermione, I don't want the whole of Hogsmeade talking, so I'll be the one in the end booth wearing dark red robes, and drinking a butterbeer, alright?'  
  
'Fine, I 'll be there as soon as I can get away, I'll tell them I have to buy a present for my parents anniversary, which isn't a lie, because I'll do that when I go into town as well. You'd better get back to the band before the Weasley's slip canary cream liqueur into your drink.'  
  
'Yeah, better go' and with that Wood ran off to the stage to sing another of his pathetic little songs, and Draco slunk off to his room whilst the rest of Hogwarts celebrated.  
  
OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH – What will happen next? Vote now! Review and vote!  
  
Thanx again to the four people ( or three ) who actually bothered to review my story!  
  
Sorry it's a bit short, will be longer next time! 


	6. Interesting preparations

Chapter 6: The adventure continues  
This chap. Is short, but I am really busy at the mo!! Will do more next time!  
  
Disclaimer: This is getting boring, let me say for the last time I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!!!! JKR DOES!!  
  
Hermione may have been forced to share a bathroom with Draco, but she was beginning to think that that wasn't a very unreasonable deal, considering what she was sharing. As prefect last year, she had access to a bath the size of a swimming pool with all of those different bubble taps. It had been communal, but everyone had their own little routines, so there weren't any run-ins in the bath. Hermione had expected to have her own bathroom, if smaller than the prefects, and she really didn't mind. But the Head Girl and Boy bathroom really was something. It was less of a bathroom and more like one of those swanky, holistic, day-spa's her mother was always going to.   
  
The bath, or rather pool, was the same size as the prefects, only it had twice as many taps and a small rubber boat with giant nets to row about in the top. So, in theory, if you lost a personal item, you just sailed across the top and your missing article was found. She had never seen a shower in Hogwarts; but this had to be the most impressive she had ever seen. It was a giant waterfall, at least 60ft high, and a kind of one-way gossamer curtain appeared when you got in, so that you could see what was going on outside, but they couldn't see you, kind of like an invisibility cloak only lighter.   
  
Luckily, she hadn't ever bumped into the impeccably groomed master Malfoy in what she assumed would be his domain right from the start of the term. It had to be tonight, tonight of all nights. She was getting ready to go into Hogsmeade to see Oliver, and had just stepped into shower when Draco entered through his door. He was wearing a dark green toweling robe (big surprise there) and held a matching towel. He approached the bubble taps and turned on the one that spewed forth gallons of what looked at first like blood, but then as you smelt it you realised it was a kind of decadent wild Strawberry. She had never picked him as the strawberry type; but her bubbly thoughts completely popped when he took of his robe.   
  
He was wearing board shorts (as a precaution, she guessed), but otherwise, all was revealed. 'It's amazing what they hide under all of those robes' she thought to herself; for although her heart was 100% committed to Oliver, her head didn't mind browsing. He wasn't overly muscled, but was trim and lanky; not very broad, but with quite wide shoulders - a very nice piece of work and she mentally hit herself for thinking that he would be excellent for a shag. He dived into the hot red liquid, stroking to the end of the bath and back, and then swimming back to the middle again. She was shocked to notice him removing his boxers and seeing them float across the foamy surface. She told herself that she had to get a move on, and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, smoothing it back with her hands. As soon as she finished, the waterfall slowed to its normal trickle. She wasn't going to be unfaithful and flirt with the bastard, but she had a fair idea of the kind of pain she could inflict without saying a word. She wrapped herself in the smallest towel on the rack and opened the gossamer curtain.   
  
Draco could not believe his eyes - Hermione could not have been wearing less if she tried. It looked like she was wearing the bath mat; in fact, Draco was sure that she WAS wearing the bath mat. God, she was bloody gorgeous, very curvy, hair all wet and curly, plastered against her shoulders. She sauntered back towards her door, pulled it behind her, and Draco heard the key turn in the latch. He never had her pegged as the kind who sauntered; but from what he had just seen she was quite the expert. He tried to drag his thoughts away from her, he would have plenty of time with her soon enough. Instead, he directed his train of thought toward his mind blowing evening last night.   
  
Draco had dawdled back to his room, dressing and taking the least direct route to the Slytherin common room - just to see who was around. When he arrived there seemed to be no one around, and he was just about to speak to the painting of the Slytherin snake that led back to his very plush suite when a high, smooth voice cut through the silence.   
'Excuse me, Draco? My name is Felicity, you met me yesterday evening, and I'm in sixth year. Dumbledore is always saying that if we have a problem, we should see a prefect. Well, my problem is much larger, so I thought I'd go right to the top and ask head boy' Draco smirked to himself as he remembered how he and Felicity had 'met'. So, he did get her name right. Bit of a fluke, really.   
'Well, Felicity, if you want to have a proper discussion without fearing the rest of the vultures known as Slytherin listening in, you could come into my room' he said matter-of-factly. 'That would be fine.' She followed him in to the lounge of his little complex and he instructed her to have a seat on one of the dark green lounges as she babbled on about something whilst he went and poured himself a Bloody Mary. He returned, and asked her out of obligation rather than care; 'So, what's wrong?'  
'Well,' she said, her voice lowering 'I've been lusting after the head boy for a few weeks and wanted to get it out of my system' what happened after that was just a frenzied blur to Draco. She jumped on him and started kissing him like a nymphomaniac on death row, and slid her hands into some very interesting places and well, he felt like he had never felt before… After what he thought was supposed to be the most embarrassing experience of his life (even though he thought it went all right) he offered her a drink and she asked for an ice-cold butterbeer, he sat down and smirked at her.  
'So, has your problem been relieved, fellow student?'  
'Very much so, Master Malfoy; I am so glad to have resolved it at last. And yourself?'  
'I am quite pleased with the resolution of your problem, and see no reason to follow up, as your problem has undoubtedly been dealt with in an appropriate manner.' Felicity looked heartbroken, as if she were expecting an encore for her efforts.   
'Well, thankyou for your help' and with that, she rose, turned and ran out of his room. Draco was not surprised, and simply saw this as a diversion to this evening's grand plan, which would soon kick into action. Draco swum over the side, hopped out, and headed for his door, hoping that soon he would be heading for the other internal door in the Head bathroom.   
  
Oliver looked in the mirror in his room at the pub - not exactly a palace, but it did the job. He finished spiking his hair, pulled on some cords and a turtleneck jumper, as well as his cloak and made his way down the stairs for his date with destiny….  
  
  
Ooohhhh - what should happen?? You tell me!! Suggestions are most welcome!! Thanks in advance to anyone who reviews this - see the button just down there? Click it!! Seeya till next week!  
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